"Absolutely not," Dweezil thundered, smacking his paw against the metal fence for emphasis. "I flatly refuse to allow that, that," he paused momentarily and noticed Squig frantically trying to get his attention . He was shaking his head, pointing at Annie with one paw, while zipping his mouth with the other. On some other day this little dance might have been amusing, but after spending three days on a train, he was not in the mood to be amused. However, it was best not to use words like skank or whore in front of his daughter, who would have twenty million questions concerning their meaning; or his mother who would lecture and hector him for days on his lack of tact. So, pasting a concerned look on his face he blandly said, "I would prefer we hire an experience bartender, and I don't think Ms. Tailer has the right credentials for the job."
"Oh but she does," Trixie answered back immediately. "She's been working three days a week as a bartender in Durango and she recently received her associate's degree in hospitality at the local community college. Her references were glowing. I can show them to you when we get unpacked."
"I'll just bet they were," Harlan harrumphed. I bet they were all men weren't they?
And what's going to happen when the town hears that you got one of them cat house girls working behind the bar? Did you think about that? How many decent folks are going to want to come then. It won't matter how fancy the food is, no decent cat's going to want to bring his wife, daughters or girlfriend to your eatery." He nodded primly, just daring them to come up with a reply.
He didn't have to wait long because Yvette extended her claws, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him over to a bench. She then shoved him down and standing over him, with a glare that could stop a bull in mid charge, whispered, "And just how, may I ask are they going to find out."
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